King Cave (37 page)

His grip tightened on my hips, and he growled, “You’re the one who fell asleep last night before I got into bed.” He nipped my lower lip gently. “But I agree. Two days has been too long.” Wide lips landed on mine and began stroking with a hunger that matched my own, our lustful demands battling with each other, the push and pull intoxicating. Between our feasting at each other’s mouths, he asked, “I was looking for you. Where the hell were you?”

“With King Kincaid,” I murmured against his lips, craving his taste and his heat, our mouths quickly meshing wickedly, perfectly. Fingers shaking with the need he tirelessly inspired, I began undoing the tong buttons to his velvet robe, barely managing not to rip them off, before pushing it over his shoulders, just to have it catch at his biceps.

Resting against me more heavily, mouth never leaving mine, he tugged his robe the rest of the way off, letting it drop to the floor behind him. Heated palms landed on my thighs, kneading as they traveled to my hips, while his searing, slick tongue glided across the seam of my lips, demanding entry. Shivering in sensory pleasure, I tilted my head and opened for him. My profound groan was in concert with his as our gliding tongues invaded, rubbing sensually and making love to each other’s mouths.

Blissful moments passed as our thorough strokes altered, increasingly burning into a frantic desire of flesh-driven urgency that left both of us gasping. Breathless, and still not leaving my lips, Ezra ordered, “Don’t let go.” Clinging to him as instructed, his clever tongue plunged, returning to mine, as he pushed away from the door. I felt cool air at my back and heard items crashing to the ground as he bent, laying me on the desk now empty of office objects. Quick fingers began unbuttoning my black top as he pressed his lips firmer to mine, eating at my mouth just as hard as I was his. I whimpered as his knuckles grazed my bare skin with each button he unfastened.

My own hands journeyed, heat suffusing every nerve ending, as he began grinding his impressive cock against my sensitive core. Grabbing his billowy red shirt, I yanked it over his head, making him grunt in frustration when he had to stop his task and lift his lips from mine. He snatched the shirt from my hands, haphazardly stuffing it under my head for protection against the unforgiving marble, then his mouth instantly returned. I barely got in a breath before his tongue slid across mine, tempting me to sin.

I got my hands on his belt just as he finished with my shirt, cupping my breasts and squeezing them through my bra. He moaned, his breath rushing over my cheeks. Igniting heat traveled from the tips of my breasts to my belly, and I arched into his touch, whispering, “Ezra.”

That was when I felt his belt snap beneath my fingers.

He stilled on top of me, his dilated eyes traveling from my breasts to my wide gaze. A slow blink. “Sweetheart, that is the third belt you’ve broken this week alone.” A pause as humor entered his gaze. “I don’t even know how many that makes so far.”

I licked my lips, my gaze a smidge sheepish. “I’ll buy you more, or maybe, you could quit wearing them?”

“Not gonna happen,” he murmured, eyes journeying down to my breasts. “And I don’t think I want you shopping for me.” His thumb traveled over my bra, brushing my nipple and making me jolt under him. He grinned, his head slowly lowering. “You’d probably bring one back with a cartoon character on the buckle.”

A quick glance at my current bra, and my cheeks flushed. I was wearing one of my Shifter festive bras, this time with a bunny print. At least it wasn’t the one with animated frogs I had finally found in my drawer today. That one I really liked, but he would probably hate. “I’m sure I could manage something without the term ‘cute’ applied to it.”

He hummed in his throat — his attention caught elsewhere — no longer listening as his lips dipped to my collarbone. My own distressing reaction flew wayward as his wicked tongue danced over my skin, tickling and enticing me to bare my throat. Grabbing his hair, I tilted my head and pressed his mouth to my neck, and I felt his fangs brush my pulse before retracting without biting, as I had originally asked. Breaths coming in pants as he suckled at my neck, leisurely moving downward while his hands continued working their magic on my breasts, I tilted my face toward him.

And damn near choked on slut as I inhaled. I blinked, sniffing his hair again, making sure I had the clinging scent right. It was. A slow growl that I couldn’t contain rumbled from my chest as I remembered his mussed hair. And this growl wasn’t a nice one as my emotions spiraled. Not at all.

Ezra’s body froze on top of me as his head lifted, eyes scanning the room, misunderstanding. His gaze found mine a moment later, and his black eyebrows slammed together. Slowly, he took his hands off my breasts and placed them on the desk’s surface next to my shoulders, lifting on them so he was staring down at me. He inhaled sharply, and immediately his thick lashes hooded his gaze. “Lily?” A multitude of questions was in that one word, my name.

“You smell of slut,” I hissed, taking my hands back from his hair and sniffing them, which only made my growl intensify. Luckily for him, all I smelled was her normal scent, not her sexual fluids. Still, my emotions raged their own private battle, trying to devour me, and I tried to understand as they beat a heavy rhythm in my head and chest, stealing my very air.

A pause, his head cocking as he watched me. “You mean Jessica.”

“Same thing.” I unlatched my legs from around his waist, starting to squirm out from underneath him.

It didn’t really work since he grabbed my hips in an unbreakable hold, keeping me flush against him. “Jessica isn’t a slut.” He paused, and ignoring my growl, his face dropped to inches from my face. His eyes were on mine. Searching. Inhaling deeply, then holding the breath in, he murmured, “You’re jealous.”

Abruptly, my growl cut off. Staring up at him, I blinked repeatedly.

Was I? Was that what was causing this? Was that the emotion flaring bright?

I knew I didn’t like her scent on him, that was for fuck sure. And I sure as hell didn’t like the fact that he was with me after being in direct contact with her.

Was that jealousy? Or just pride?

Green eyes watching me carefully, Ezra softly kissed my lips. The lightest touch. Gaze steadfast on mine, his mouth hovered before lowering, pressing gentle lips to my chin. The barest of touches down my jaw. My throat. Eyes still holding mine, he nibbled down the center of my chest, ever so slowly, pressing his mouth’s warmth against my skin.

Quietly, he affirmed, “You know I’ve only had sex with you since we got back together.”
Truth.
His tongue dipped, beginning to create designs on my cleavage before giving my flesh an open-mouthed kiss. Breath rushing over my gradually reheating skin, he said, “I only drank from her today.” As I stayed silent, trying to figure out just what the hell I was feeling, his gaze dropped to one of my breasts. Gently, he palmed it, beginning to suckle at my pebbled nipple through the material.

My breath caught, and I grabbed a fistful of his hair, my other hand going back to his pants.

Only to have the smell of slut puff at me like a cloud of pissed-off fury, and right now, I could feel his jeans already unbuttoned, which I hadn’t gotten to doing yet.

Using great restraint, I actually withheld the growl. “Your pants are already unbuttoned.”

Ezra laved my nipple, shrugging his massive shoulders over me. “She tried to put her hand down my pants while I drank.”

Okay.
The growl couldn’t be contained as I envisioned her perfect hand going for his cock, and I started shoving his shoulders. “Get the fuck off me.”

His head snapped up, not moving one damn bit as I pushed him, and again, he inhaled sharply.

I growled low, and was pissed off just enough that I shoved with my Shifter strength.

He moved that time.

Watching as he stumbled back two steps from the desk, I rolled off it, backing away from him even further and stepping on the discarded items from the desk right before my back slammed against the wall under the shelf of candles.

His eyes were hooded, and his arms were crossed, one hand over his mouth. He stood, bare chest expanding and his muscles bulging, as he inhaled slowly, green gaze carefully watching.

Cutting off the growl, I ran my hands through my hair, confused and aroused and pissed and…yes, damn jealous. And I knew he was scenting it all. Goddamn Vampire nose.

“Lily,” Ezra said quietly. “What’s going on?”

I glanced at the door, ready to bolt. I wasn’t sure I could answer his question.

He sidestepped, placing his back to said door.

Fuck.

“I don’t know,” I muttered, glancing around the room and scratching my nose, only to yank my hand away when it left the remnants of slut there. I growled, glaring at my hand. And told the truth. “I don’t like her scent on you.” My eyes glowed. “And I sure as hell,” I growled even lower, sounding scary to my own ears as I rubbed my palms on my pants, “don’t like the idea of her hands that close to your fucking cock.” My mouth slammed shut, growl cut off.

Dear God. I sounded like a bitter wife.

Silence.

I didn’t look anywhere near him.

A very long freaking minute passed in stillness before he moved from the door, his broken belt jingling as he moved a few feet closer and stopped to sit on the edge of the desk, reclining on straight arms. He unbent his legs and crossed his ankles, staring down at his boots.

“You’ve never been jealous before.” His gaze found my face. I could feel it even though I wasn’t looking directly at him. “You know I drink daily. You know sometimes the women, and occasionally the men, try to get physical with me.” A pause. “It’s practically the same damn circumstance when all those Shifters flock to you. And believe me, sweetheart, they aren’t always there for simple comfort.” He wasn’t lying. Half the time, I had to maneuver away from
friendly
hands. He cracked his neck. “So, what the hell’s this about?”

I cracked my own neck, rolling my shoulders, and moved away from the wall, heading toward the bookcase across the room. It would give me something to look at besides his unbelievable, half-bare build. Stopping in front of the books, which all looked the same, I mumbled, “I don’t know.” Fuck me, if that wasn’t the truth.

There was only quiet behind me until Ezra stated dryly, “You’ve got to give me more than that to go on.”

Closing my eyes in resignation, I turned and opened them to meet his gaze slowly. His was as guarded as mine. His body appeared deceptively at ease, his posture of someone inviting candor, but his muscles were fairly vibrating they were so tense. I eyed him, trying to work through this.

Going on facts alone, I reasoned it out. During our time together, not-so-gradually my interest in any other partner had completely diminished. When we had been on our break, it had hurt like a son of a bitch when I had found out about his other partners. I had only continued sleeping with Finn because I was pissed off and confused. And there was the incident with Rose’s dog when I hadn’t liked her near him. Hell, I couldn’t even imagine finding someone I would want more in my bed than Ezra. And all the while, I had been having more sex with Ezra, spending every spare moment I could with him.

And it hit me, like a bullet of pounding awareness through the brain.

Oh, Jesus.

My breath caught and my gaze jumped away from him.

“What?” Ezra asked instantly.

I started pacing in front of the bookshelves, rubbing my nose every time I neared the fireplace, so I stayed clear of it. Its smell was bugging the shit out of me when Ezra wasn’t near and his scent permeating my senses. I sighed and stopped in the middle of the room, facing him. “Okay, you and I…” I fidgeted with my open shirt, staring down at it. “Would it be…”
Oh hell, this was fucking hard to say.

Ezra kept silent, his gaze making me even more nervous.

Finally, I blurted, “We’ve never had ‘the talk’, Ezra.” My hands fluttered a little before I started yanking them through my hair while I wondered if this was a bad idea. “You know?”

He held my gaze. “The talk?” He spoke like it was foreign to him, tasting the word’s newness.

I sighed heavily.
How the hell else do I explain it?
Wringing my hands, I studied my shoes. “Like…we never talked about…whether or not we would have other lovers while we were sleeping together.” When he stilled completely, I stated hurriedly, “I don’t want that. Or, what I mean is, I don’t want us sleeping with other people.” Fuck, I was flustered.

Running my hands through my hair, I continued blundering through what I was trying to say. “I want to be…exclusive.” I nodded. That was what I wanted to say. “Exclusion. I want it stated in mutual understanding that’s where we are, instead of just…happening. I want to know for a fact that you aren’t out there kissing or touching or fucking someone else. And I don’t want someone else doing any of that to you.”

I pointed at myself. “I can honestly say I don’t want anyone else doing that to me. But right now, as we stand, either one of us could go out and fuck someone else, and the other person would have no viable reason to be upset, because we’ve never actually talked about it.” My eyes, which had been wandering, darted to his. And stayed there. I really wanted to look away, but I wanted to gauge his reaction more.